If I'd Only Known
by Slaymesoftly
Summary: So, written originally for sb fag ends/ashtray (and trope bingo– futurefic), the prompt was 10 years gone, but I'm going to go in another direction to try to fill my latest trope bingo card, so may as well post this one instead of hiding it in my trope folder. Buffy is the head slayer in Europe, still living in Rome, when she gets an unexpected visitor...


**If I'd Only Known...**

"_Who_'s here?" Buffy's expression was mixed panic and disbelief as she whirled to stare at her startled assistant.

"Um... he... uh... he said you'd know who he was if I just said..."

"I heard what you said. What's he look like? Did you see him touch anything? Does he seem solid?" Buffy tried to wrestle her expression into calm curiosity as she faked a smile.

Sally frowned at the odd questions. "Do you not know who he is? Should I call Security?"

"No. No, Security. He'd probably..." She gave another smile, more genuine this time. "That would probably be a really bad idea. I just asked you what he looks like because it's been ten years and I just wanted... It's okay, Sally," she said, leaning against the desk. "Just send him in." Buffy thought for a second. "And hold my calls until I tell you it's all right."

Sally frowned again. "Even if it's—"

"Hold _all _my calls," Buffy said firmly. "_Especially_ if it's—" She never finished her sentence. As she spoke, Buffy was shutting off her cell phone and turning to place it on the desk. It dropped with a clatter when she was interrupted by a voice she'd never thought to hear again.

"Bloody hell, Slayer. If I'd known you were going to have to think about it this long, I would have just seen myself in."

The voice and attitude were incredibly familiar, the good-looking man with the curly brown hair wearing an expensive-looking suit not nearly so. Without taking her eyes off Spike, who was now grinning at her and wearing one of his "I know just what you're thinking" expressions, Buffy waved Sally out of the room. She sighed in relief when the door was firmly shut behind her, then turned to stare at Spike just in time to catch him gazing at her with the soft, affectionate smile she'd not missed until it was no longer in her life. He quickly changed his expression back to the cocky grin the rest of the world usually saw.

"Bit too much of a change, luv?" he asked, gesturing at his suit.

Buffy shook her head. "No. No, I like the look. I just..." She took a deep breath, letting it out in one long, steadily louder question. "Where the hell have you been for the past ten years, and why-didn't-you-bother-to-let-me-know-you-were-aliv e?"

"Ah. Was actually hoping maybe it had been long enough we could skip the yelling part." He sighed and his shoulders slumped. "Guess not. Should have known you'd still be brassed off."

"Brass—?" She stepped up to him and slapped him across the face, pulling her blow at the last second so as not to lose her balance just in case he was the First. He wasn't, and her hand left a very satisfactory print on his face. "I _mourned_ for you, you miserable son-of-bitch! I _grieved!_ For years I grieved for you and wondered why you never let me know you'd come back and then... I thought you died! Again." She took deep breaths, fighting back angry tears. "I wasn't 'brassed off', you bastard. I was heartbroken."

As he gaped at her, shock, dismay and sorrow chasing themselves across his face, he reached for her, only to have his hand smacked down.

"I wouldn't try to touch me just now," she said. "I said I _was_ heartbroken. Now that I know there was no reason for it, _now_ I'm 'brassed off'. You have no idea how much I want to kick your ass right now." She glared at him, breathing hard and trying to pretend she couldn't see the way he was staring at her heaving chest even as he held up a hand in a plea for peace. "And stop ogling me!"

He wrenched his eyes back to her face.

I'm sorry, love. Still can't keep my eyes off you, especially when you're... I guess this means a reunion hug is out of the question?" He held out his arms and raised his eyebrows hopefully, in a look only too familiar, relaxing when she visibly tried to calm down.

"Give me a minute," she mumbled. "I can't promise I won't try to kill you yet." She waved her hand at the upholstered love seat against the wall. "Have a seat and tell me where you've been."

Sprawling on the small sofa as if he'd been there dozens of times before, he nodded obediently and began to speak while Buffy perched much less comfortably on the cushion beside him.

"The not tellin' you I was back after... Sunnydale... That was... It was complicated, love. Couldn't for a bit. The big poof wouldn't help; he just told me you'd 'moved on' and to leave you alone. Kinda thought he might be right, you know? I mean, I knew you'd probably grieved – and so did he, much as he hated to admit it – but I'd died a hero, you know? How was I going to top that?"

He shifted uncomfortably as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Once I was solid enough to leave, I changed my mind every five minutes. 'Go to Buffy' 'Leave Buffy alone to enjoy her new life' 'Go to Buffy' 'Leave her be' and on and on. 'Bout made me dizzy, it did." He raised one eyebrow at her.

"Really didn't expect Andrew to keep his word and not tell you. I guess I thought he had and that you didn't care enough to—" When she flinched and bit her lip, he reached for her hand and in spite of her half-hearted attempt to pull it away, brought it to his lips. "I'm sorry, love. It was a crazy time and I wasn't thinkin' all that clearly. Tryin' to figure out if Peaches had gone all Angelus on us or if he'd just put us into a fight we couldn't win..."

"He—Andrew. He told Giles," Buffy said, leaving her hand in his. "And Giles decided I shouldn't know." Her eyes met his. "I'd have been on the next plane. You know that, right?"

"Know that now," he said squeezing her hand. "Didn't then."

"You didn't believe me." She yanked her hand away. "You died thinking I was lying to you?"

"Ah, love. No. Knew you meant it at the time. I believed you, just wanted to get you out of there and didn't think you'd go if we were having some sort of romantic moment. Trust me, Buffy. I 'died' a very happy man." He sighed. "Just didn't stay dead, and didn't come back any smarter than I was when I left. Don't know what else to say, sweetheart. Seems like I buggered it up like I always do."

"Ya think?" Her sarcastic words didn't have quite the effect they might have if her voice hadn't been shaking. He flowed off the couch and onto his knees in front of her, in almost the same position he'd used years ago.

"I don't have the words to tell you how sorry I am, Buffy. I'll regret that forever. That I hurt you like that. Never meant to. Thought I was doing the right thing – giving you some options."

She snorted her opinion of that excuse. "Why now? What changed?"

"I'm not a strong man," he said with a shrug. "Couldn't stay away from you forever. Not if there was a chance—" He shook his head. "Not here for anything, love. Nothing except to see you and assure myself that I did the right thing stayin' away." He gazed around her office, noting the open weapon storage on the wall. "Can't say this is exactly what I expected. Thought maybe you'd be all retired and have yourself a couple of bitty Buffys by now."

"Apparently, retirement isn't a slayer option," she said with a wry twist of her mouth. "Not if you're one of the only two originals. I handle this part of the world and Faith handles the Cleveland hellmouth and anything that comes up in the States. We both travel to England when we have to for Council stuff."

"Things are pretty quiet there, aren't they?" He gave her his best innocent gaze, but Buffy's eyes narrowed.

"And you know that because..." She frowned and stood up so suddenly he rocked back on his heels and almost fell. Ignoring him, she ran to her desk and brought up the file she'd been looking at earlier in the day. She scanned the information on her screen, glancing up from time to time at Spike, who was beginning to edge toward the door. "You're it! Him! You're the master vampire the Council has been working with to keep London vamp-free. It's you!"

She slammed her laptop shut and began to stalk toward him. "Don't even think about trying to get out that door... I'll break both your legs if I have to until I get some answers."

He stopped his less-than-subtle movements.

"You got me, Slayer. Was going to get around to that part of the story in time. I swear. Wasn't trying to hide it from you. Thought you'd make a bigger deal about the poncy clothes and that'd give me a chance to lead into—"

"I haven't seen you for ten freakin' years, and you thought I'd be asking about your _clothes?_" She looked like she was seriously considering slapping him again.

"Can we start over? Why don't we discuss this over a good meal and a nice bottle of wine?"

She stared speechlessly at him for a full minute.

"Are you asking me out?"

"I'm asking an old friend to let me take her to dinner. Not making any more of it than it is, love. I know you're entitled to some answers, and I thought maybe we could do it in a less... businesslike... setting."

"Considering that my business is slaying vampires and I just found out that you're the master of a whole city—"

"Exactly. Need to take it to neutral territory, don't we?"

She sighed and shrugged. "All right. It's pretty close to quitting time anyway." She glanced down at her trousers and flat shoes. "I should probably change clothes if we're going somewhere nice."

"You look fine, Buffy. Don't want you to go to any trouble for me."

She rolled her eyes in disbelief, then pointed at the loveseat. "Sit." Not waiting to see if he'd obeyed, she disappeared into another room, emerging ten minutes later with makeup applied, hair down and combed, wearing a dress that more than held its own with his tailored suit, and a pair of shoes that made it clear she'd been helping out the Italian shoe industry.

Buffy stood outside the bathroom/closet door for a few seconds, basking in the look on Spike's face, then walked to the office door and opened it. She glanced over her shoulder to where he was still sitting, staring at her. "Are you coming?" Her narrowed eyes told him it wasn't the right time for suggesting a double meaning, and he just nodded as he came to his feet and moved quickly to her side. He put his hand on the door and held it while she continued out into the reception area.

"Sally, we're done for the day. You can go home. Have a good weekend."

"Uh, yeah... okay, but..."

Buffy paused. "But? I'm letting you leave early and there's a 'but'?"

"You had a call. I mean, you had a few calls while you were... but you had a call from... you know."

Buffy felt Spike stiffen beside her. "Didn't mean to interrupt anything, Buffy. You could have said if you already had plans."

She sighed and shook her head. "I didn't—don't have plans. But I do have a... somebody I've just started seeing and I guess he..." She sighed again and turned around to look up at him. "I think I'd better return his call. Do you mind waiting a few minutes?"

"Been waiting the best part of ten years, haven't I? Go on, love. Make your call. I'll just wait out here with... Sally, is it?" He looked up at the receptionist and gave her one of his most charming smiles. Buffy shook her head as her normally unflappable assistant blushed and nodded.

"You're incorrigible," she murmured just loud enough for his hearing as she brushed past him and back into her office. She closed the door and gave a guilty start as she realized she'd been about to walk out with Spike leaving her phone where she'd dropped it on the desk. She picked it up, flicked it on and winced at the multiple messages waiting for her.

Hitting "call back" she waited for only a few seconds as the call was answered on the first ring.

"Buffy? Are you all right? What's going on? Why wouldn't Sally let me talk to you?"

"Hi, Riley. I'm sorry, I told her to hold all my calls. It's not her fault."

"_All_ your calls doesn't mean me..." When there was no response, his voice tightened. "Does it? Did you tell her not to let me through?"

"I told her all my calls, and I emphasized _all_," Buffy said, telling herself it wasn't exactly a lie.

"Why? What were you doing that's so important or hush-hush you couldn't take a few seconds to talk to me?" His tone was beginning to get on Buffy's nerves as he talked to her in what was a pretty proprietary manner for someone who was only recently back in her life.

"What I was doing, _Riley_," she said, allowing some of her dislike for his attitude to show in her voice, "was talking to someone I hadn't seen in a long time and I didn't want any interruptions. I wasn't aware that I needed your permission to have a conversation with an old... co-worker."

"All right," he said, taking the hint. "I'm sorry. It's just that I wanted to tell you that I've been called out of town and won't be back till next Wednesday. I thought you might want to go with me."

"Why?" She was instantly all business. "Do you need slayers? Why didn't you tell Sally it was an emergency?"

"No. No. It's nothing like that. I'm going to Spain to do some training for them, and I just thought you might like a little vacation. You could loll around on the beach while I'm working and—"

Buffy struggled to control her voice. "That's a... nice thought, but I don't think I can just take off like that. I was on vacation a few weeks ago, remember?"

"I know, but I wasn't with you, so I thought this would give us some more time together."

"If you're working all day?"

"I'll be training. You could come and watch if you wanted to."

"Watch. You think I'd want to watch?"

"Well, yeah. Some of the guys will have their wives with them and..."

"Wow," was all she said, not bothering to correct his immediate assumption that she was excited about the idea of spending her time lolling on a beach or watching him do manly things. "Well, thanks for thinking of me, Riley, but I can't do it, and I have to go now. I have some—people waiting for me. Have a good trip. Bye."

She broke the connection and immediately turned her phone off again. Shaking her head at how little Riley had changed when it came to understanding her life, she opened the door and stood there for a few seconds watching Spike turn her thirty-something assistant into a simpering girl.

"Spike." His head flew up. Neither of them noticed Sally's expression as she watched the man who'd just been flirting with her shamelessly now focus his complete attention on her boss. Spike moved off the corner of her desk to Buffy's side.

"Are you alright, pet? Is there a problem?"

"Nope. No problem. All taken care of." She gave him a small smile. "Let's go."

As they walked toward the elevator, Buffy heard Sally's phone ringing.

"Do you need to see who that is?" Spike held the elevator door for her and raised one eyebrow.

"No. I'm off the clock."

"Never known you to go off the clock, Slayer. Not really in your job description, is it?" He let the door slide shut. "You're getting careless in your old age."

As the door slid shut, she glared at him. "I hope you're not implying that you think I'm getting old," she growled. "I can still kick your ass any day of the week."

He laughed and pulled her into a quick one-arm hug. "Don't doubt it for a second, love. Was just yanking your chain. You'll never be too old to kick my arse."

"Just so we're clear," she said, smothering a smile. The smile faded as he dropped his arm, but she decided an elevator that was almost down wasn't the best place for an I-really-am-glad-to-see-you hug.

As if reading her mind, he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "That wasn't the hug I was looking for, love. As soon as we're someplace less—" He stopped as the door slid open to reveal a lobby full of people. "Less full of bloodthirsty little girls," he finished, checking out how many of those people were obviously slayers.

Buffy laughed and took his hand, tugging him out the door. "Come on, Big Bad. Half of them won't even know what you are, and the other half will be running around peering into closets. Nobody is going to suspect the boss is walking out the door with a famous vampire."

Just as Buffy had said, some of the girls smiled at them, completely oblivious to Spike's true nature, and some of them sent suspicious gazes around the well-lit lobby, searching for the source of the vibes.

"Don't suppose you'd think it was funny if I flashed some fang when we go out the door," he whispered as she towed him across the lobby.

"No!" Buffy yanked harder on his hand and pulled the laughing vampire to and out through the reinforced glass doors. "You're an idiot," she muttered as they moved down the street. "I don't know how I could have forgotten that."

They'd walked half a block, hands still linked, before Buffy slowed down and turned to face him. "Um... I don't really have a destination in mind..."

"It's your city, love. I'm just a visitor here. Pick where you want to go and we'll flag down a cab." He glanced down at her feet. "Those aren't exactly hiking shoes you've got on there."

"There's a nice little place just on the next block," she said. "I can make it that far."

"If not, I could always pick you up and carry you," he said. "Wouldn't do much for your image as boss slayer, but your feet might appreciate it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

She began walking again, interlacing their fingers into a more intimate grip and telling herself it was just so she didn't lose him on the crowded street. When arrived at the small restaurant, she hesitated for just a second.

"Something wrong, love?"

Buffy tightened her grip and tried to tell herself it didn't mean a thing that this was one place she had never come with a man. It had been her refuge, a place to relax and not worry about being hit on by Italian man who were much too sure of their own attractiveness. Ever since she had saved the owner's wife and kitchen staff from a small gang of vamps, they had treated her like family. When she indicated that she didn't want male attention while dining, it became the owner's sworn duty to see that she was never disturbed. In an effort to not send mixed messages, she'd never brought a date with her.

"Buffy?" He pulled his hand out of hers and waited. "Come on, love, I know I don't look that bad. No need to be ashamed of me now."

"I'm not," she said, smiling and waiting for him to open the door. "I'm not ashamed of you. It's just..." She ducked under his arm and smiled a greeting at the owner's wife.

"Signora Buffy! We haven't seen you in weeks. Luigi and I were just talking about you the other night and hoping nothing had happened to you." She ran her eyes up and down Spike's body, pausing to stare into his eyes that were crinkled in amusement. "It appears something did," Maria said with a grin. "Who is this man who has caught the attention of our favorite nun?"

"Nun?" Spike gaped at Buffy, who elbowed him in the ribs.

"She's kidding," she said. "She just means I don't very often bring a guy with me when I come here."

"She has _never _brought a man with her. Never." Marie walked around Spike in a circle, checking out his suit, his shoes, and his confused expression. "What is it that makes you so special? Not that you are not handsome," she hastened to add. "But she has given the icy shoulder to many attractive men. You are very special."

"That so, pet?" he asked in a whisper, laughing when she elbowed him again.

Maria's eyes narrowed at the rough physical interaction. "Or maybe you are a relative? Someone she doesn't see as a possible suitor..."

It was Buffy's turn to laugh as Spike's face fell. "Let it go, Maria. He's just a very old friend who I needed to talk with someplace where I knew we'd have privacy. This seemed like a good choice."

"Of course it did." Maria puffed up with pride. "Come this way." She led them to a small table that was so far back against the wall that it was almost in its own alcove. Walls on two sides and a plant on a third gave them as much privacy as they could want or expect in a public place. Maria left the menus and returned quickly with a bottle of wine and two glasses. When Buffy raised her eyebrows, Maria just clucked. "Only the wine is on the house. Just in case he is not a relative or an impossible suitor." She whisked back to the front of the restaurant, leaving Buffy and Spike to fidget uncomfortably.

Making sure Maria could see him, he lifted Buffy's hand to his lips and kissed her palm.

"I know you're only doing that to confuse Maria," Buffy said, smiling anyway and leaving her hand resting in his.

"Wrong as usual, Slayer. Flummoxing your mother hen there is only part of it; the rest of it is that's the only body part I can legitimately be puttin' my lips to in public and I'm planning to take advantage of it of every chance I get." To prove his point, he kissed her knuckles, then set the hand down on her side of the table. "I reckon that'll hold me for a bit."

"Well, you're more easily satisfied than you used to be," she quipped, blushing as she did so. Memories of his asking for "just a crumb" forced themselves into her other thoughts of times when he'd had more than a crumb and still not been satisfied.

"Not really," he said, his voice and expression bland, pouring some wine into both glasses. "But I have had to learn a bit of patience." He handed her one of the glasses and raised his. "To old friends and new beginnings." Only a flicker in his eyes told her that he wasn't as confident as he seemed to be.

Buffy clicked her glass against his and gave him a warm smile. "To old friends and new beginnings," she echoed.

They both drank, then Buffy reached for her menu and began to tell him about her favorite dishes. By the time the waitress came to take their order, they were relaxed and joking about Buffy's mangling of the Italian names.

"So," Spike said with an exaggerated casual air, "You don't often bring men here with you? Why is that?"

Buffy took a long gulp of her wine, then sighed and smiled at him. "It isn't 'not often', it's never. And I don't know, really. It's just a place I can come and be me, and... I don't know. I just don't."

"And now you have," he said, staring at her over the rim of his glass.

"Well... yeah. But that's different. I mean, you're... you... and long time no see, and not somebody I'm dating, and...I'm not making this better, am I?" she finished as his face shut down.

"Depends on what 'you're you' means. If it means dating me is so out of the question that I don't count as a man, then yeah. Not making anything better."

Buffy dropped her gaze to the table, then back up to his. She took a deep breath before speaking.

"That's not what I meant. What I meant was... you're you."

"Said that already, love."

"But you're not getting it!"

"I'm trying to 'get it', Buffy. But don't want to be jumping to any conclusions that could get me in trouble."

"You're not... just a date. Or just any man. Not to me. I know it's been a long time, and we probably... but it feels..."

"Feels...?" he encouraged.

"Comfortable?"

He sank back in his chair. "Comfortable? _Comfortable?_ What? Like a pair of old shoes?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to start a fight?"

"No. Can't say I'm trying to... but knowing us, I reckon it could go that way without too much work."

"See? That's what I mean. Comfortable. We... we're us. I mean, you're you, and I'm me, and together we're... comfortable."

"Don't want to be comfortable, Buffy." He leaned forward and took her hand again. "If you're saying what I think you're saying, the only thing I want to be is naked. With you. Preferably without the audience..."

He gestured at Maria, who was trying to pretend she wasn't watching their every move. When she realized she was failing miserably, she flushed and mouthed "I'm sorry" at Buffy before turning back to her menus. Spike's rich laugh and Buffy's giggle brought her head back up. She walked back to their table and looked back and forth between them, noting the linked fingers and Buffy's blush.

"So. He is not a relative, and you are very glad to see him. I can see this. I can also see that you have somewhere else you wish to be." She waved the waiter away. "You will come back to pay for your meal later, yes?"

Spike stood up and pulled out his wallet, throwing Euros on the table without even looking at them. "We'll pay for it now," he said with a smile that made her very happy for Buffy. "But thank you. We do have somewhere else to be."

Still holding Spike's hand, Buffy added her thanks and promised to bring him back soon. They walked across the restaurant with Maria beaming at them the whole way to the door.

"Well, that was embarrassing," Buffy said. "It's like she thinks she knows what we're..."

"Pretty sure she knows exactly what we're..." he replied. "Assuming she's right, the question is, where are we gonna do it?"

"I only live a couple of blocks away," Buffy mumbled, suddenly shy as she realized what she had tacitly had agreed to do. Something in her voice made him pause, and he turned to face her.

"Never did get that hug hello," he said, pulling her in to a loose embrace. "And if that's all you want, Buffy, that's all we'll do. Didn't actually plan to show up and carry you off like a caveman – that's just the effect you still have on me. Can't help it, but doesn't mean it's the only reason I want to spend time with you."

"Apparently I can't help it either," she sighed, sliding her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. "Do you think that makes us both crazy?"

She felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled. "If it does, I don't ever want to be cured."

She tilted her head back and gazed up at him. "Can we just play it by ear? I mean, obviously there's still something... but... ten years, Spike. It's been ten _years_!"

"Trust me, love. I felt every single day of those years." He dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers. "But I know that a decade seems much longer to someone who hasn't already lived for almost 150 years, and I don't expect you to just— Don't expect anything, love. You're in charge... as always."

"Can I be in charge in my apartment?" She resisted the urge to turn the light caress into a real kiss, instead turning and moving off, pulling him along with her.

By the time they'd gone the two blocks to Buffy's building, she was regretting her choice of shoes. As she continued to slow down, Spike's frown grew.

"Buffy? What's wrong, love? If you don't want to—if you just want to find a bar and chat for a while..."

"Huh? Oh, no. Sorry. It's just that my feet are killing me and—"

"Is that all?" Without asking her permission, he scooped her up and began striding forward. "Where to, Slayer?"

Buffy giggled and pointed to the main door of her building. "I thought you weren't going to go all caveman on me?"

"I was going more for knight in shining armor or Sir Walter Raleigh at least," he growled, squeezing her a little tighter. "If I was doing caveman, I'd have you thrown over my shoulder where I could reach over and bite your delectable arse."

"Oh. Okay then. Thank you." She smiled up at him. "But I think you better put me down and just let me take off my shoes before the doorman calls the cops."

"Don't want to put you down," he said. "Not yet." In spite of his words, he obediently set her down, supporting her with one arm while she unfastened and removed her beautiful, but not suited for walking, shoes. Waving her shoes at the relieved doorman, she greeted him in passable Italian and walked to the elevators. The door had barely closed behind them before she grabbed Spike and pulled his head down for the kiss she'd wanted earlier.

When the elevator gave a quiet sound as it reached her floor, she pulled back and smiled up at him.

"You're still the best kisser I've ever met... or that I've ever kissed, anyway..." she added, remembering how limited her actual experience had been at one time.

"Good to know," he said, smiling back at her. "I'll have to make it a point to remind you of it from time to time."

They stepped out into the hallway and Buffy took out her key as she led the way to her door. She didn't look at him as she opened the door and stepped in, only turning when she was well inside the foyer. "Come in, Spike."

He entered and pushed the door closed behind him, pausing to glance around before following her into a large, comfortable-looking living room. He could see a separate dining area in an open space off the kitchen.

"Very nice, Slayer. The Council of Wannabes must be paying you pretty well."

"I do okay." She dropped her shoes on the floor and walked toward the kitchen. "I don't have any blood, obviously, but I might have some beer in the fridge."

"Sounds lovely, pet. Whatever's easiest for you." He took the opened bottle Buffy handed him and tilted it at her. "Are you going to join me?"

She made a face and shut the door. "No really a big fan of beer," she said. "I think you missed that little episode of my misspent youth. It still makes me shudder."

"You had a misspent youth? How did I miss that? Why wasn't I told?"

She laughed and took out a Diet Coke for herself. "I don't think you missed much of it. Just maybe that little cave-Buffy incident." She tapped her can against his bottle and smiled. "Here's to the role you played in the rest of it."

"Cheers, love." He tipped the bottle up and gulped a sizable quantity of it before replying. "Guess I was there for most it, at that. Now that I think on it."

They stood, smiling at each other and lost in memories – good and bad. Snapping out if it at the same time, they looked away and wandered back to the living room. Spike set his bottle down and shrugged out of his coat, rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie before sinking into a large chair and stretching his legs out.

"Ah, that feels much better," he said, tipping the bottle back.

"So, you don't always go around dressed like that now?" She sounded almost wistful as she took in his more rumpled look, before deciding that she liked the casual look even more than she had the uncharacteristic suit.

He shook his head. "Can when I need to, but no, not all the time. Not really my thing any more than it ever was. Just did it to impress you." He set the empty bottle down and stretched out one hand to her. "Did it work?"

"Maybe." She tossed her head to indicate how unimpressed she was, but accepted the hand he was holding out and let him tug her down beside him.

"Chair built for two?"

"It's just a big chair," she said. "They make furniture like that now. It's all huge. But it does seem to fit us, doesn't it?"

"That it does." He slid one arm across her shoulders and pulled her into his side. "Just like it was made for us."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, basking in the strange and yet so familiar sensation of being together. Buffy turned just enough to rest her head on his shoulder and put one arm across his body. He brought his other arm around so that she was cradled in his embrace.

"Missed you, love," he whispered into her hair. "Know it doesn't seem like it, but I did. Every second of every day. It's the reason I went back to London. Thought maybe you'd be hanging out there and I could run into you 'by accident' or something. But it never happened. All I saw were bloodthirsty little newbies who all thought they could slay William the Bloody.'

Buffy stiffened. "They tried to slay you? Knowing who you were?"

He shook his head. "Not at first they didn't. Wasn't about to announce myself to them. But eventually, I needed to get them off my back, so I contacted the Council. Made them a deal – keep the little girls away from me, and I would keep the vamps out of the city."

"Nobody told me!"

"Yeah. Figured that out eventually when I'd been there for a couple of years and you didn't show up to kick my arse. Waited as long as I could, but finally had to see for myself if you were permanently retired to Italy, or just staying away for some reason."

"What if I was?"

"Was what? Stayin' away?"

"Retired, married, with children. Any of those things. What would you have done?"

He tightened his grip and sighed. "Don't really know, Buffy. Just retired, I guess I'd have shown up at your door and hoped for the best. If you were married and happy, with kids... Like to think I'd be man enough to walk away without letting you see me, but not sure I'm that strong."

She nudged him with her head. "Guess it's a good thing I'm not any of those things then, huh? Keeps you from having to make a bad decision."

"Good thing," he agreed, then pointed at his empty beer bottle. "But if you don't like beer, there must be a reason why you have so much of it in your fridge... Is there somethin' I should know?"

She heaved a sigh and sat up a little straighter. "Not really. There's... there was... a guy that I started dating a few weeks ago, but it isn't serious and I don't think it was going to work out any better now than it did way back then, so—"

"Way back when?" Suddenly she had his complete attention. "Was I around? Do I know him?"

"Um... well, actually... you probably... but then, we weren't really... except that you—"

Before Buffy could stumble her way through an explanation of how Riley had remained in touch and shown up wanting to date her after Sam's death in a plane crash, there was a loud knocking on the door.

When Buffy didn't jump up to answer the door, Spike narrowed his eyes at her.

"Shall I get the door, then, Slayer?" he asked, moving as if to get up. Buffy grabbed him and held on.

"Shhh. I'm not expecting anybody, so we'll just wait for whoever it is to go away."

"Not hiding out like I've got no right to be here," he growled. "Either I'm back in your life, or I'm not. You decide, love, but I'm not going to cower in here hoping he'll go away."

"Maybe it isn't even—"

"Buffy? I know you're in there. Open the door and talk to me."

Buffy felt rather than heard the deep growl coming from Spike's chest. "Is that who I think it is?"

Ignoring the knocking still coming from the door, Buffy sat up and turned herself so the she was straddling his lap and staring into his face.

"Yes. That is who it is. He just showed up last month and... I wasn't seeing anybody and..." She poked him in the chest with a finger. "... and I didn't have any idea you were even still alive, let alone that you still..." She blew out her breath and settled back on his thighs. "I had no reason not to go out with him. But it wasn't working out that well and—"

"And?" He held her chin and stared at her.

"And now I have a reason not to see him. I think. Don't I?"

"You know you do. If you want one, you've got yourself a reason." He pulled her closer and pressed their foreheads together. "Got that reason, if you want it or not, Slayer."

Buffy nodded, then tilted her head to kiss him, moaning slightly as he pulled her in more tightly and pressed their lower bodies against each other.

"Buffy! This is childish. Just open the door and let me in."

Riley's voice brought them out of their kiss-induced fog and Buffy sat back again.

"Guess I'd better give him the happy news," she said with a sigh. She stood up and tugged her skirt down, trying to look like she hadn't just been interrupted in the middle of some serious making out. "Not telling you to hide, but you might want to see if you can hide that thing." She pointed to the very obvious bulge in his pants.

He stood up, smirking at her, but reaching into his pants to push the bulge down against his leg. "I'll try to hide it, but you never know when it might just pop up again all by itself at the wrong moment."

"Damn thing never has had a conscience," she muttered, smiling when he gave a hearty laugh.

"Getting saucy in your old age, aren't you?" he said, curling his tongue up at her. "And you have absolutely no idea how right you are about that."

Shaking her head at him, she yelled at the door, "Keep your shirt on, Riley. Sheesh!" The banging stopped, the sudden silence surprising her. "Wow," she said. "That must have been going on for longer than I thought."

Buffy looked over her shoulder at Spike who was lounging against the wall by the kitchen, but she could see that he was not as relaxed as he was attempting to seem. "Ready?"

"Born ready, love."

Buffy was still rolling her eyes at him when she opened the door and stood, blocking the doorway. She fastened a glare on Riley and put her hands on her hips. "Well? What's your excuse for disturbing all my neighbors by pounding on my door like that? I thought you were leaving town tonight?"

"I figured out who your "old friend" was and thought maybe you'd like some backup." He stared over her head to where Spike was returning the cold stare with one of his own.

"Backup? Backup for what? What did you think we were doing in here?"

"Nothing, if he knows what's good for him..."

Buffy was left temporarily speechless – not something that afflicted Spike who began to growl and stalk toward the door.

"Don't take orders from you, wanker. And neither does Buffy. If the girl chooses not to answer her door when she doesn't want to see what's on the other side, a gentleman would have taken himself away and left her to it."

"She won't want to see you when she finds out you've gone back to being evil, Spike. When I tell her you're the Master of London, she—"

"She is standing right here, Riley. And I do know what Spike is now. He's been working with the Council to keep London vamp-free."

Riley's expression made it clear he'd had no idea that Spike and the Council were in contact. He narrowed his eyes.

"What's your game, Spike? Keep all those juicy Englishwomen for yourself?"

"What's he mean by that?" The look Buffy turned on Spike brought a smile to Riley's face, a smile that vanished when she marched up to Spike and poked him. "Are you dating somebody in London? Are you lying about still loving me?"

Riley interrupted her quickly. "No, Buffy. I mean, yeah, he sees a lot of women, but I meant that he was killing them, not—"

Ignoring Riley's fumbling explanations, Spike took the hand Buffy was poking him with and brought it his lips. He nibbled on her fingers as he smiled into her eyes. "Most of those birds were vamps, love. Just got them away from their friends, explained their options, and sent them on their way... one way or another."

"Options? They had options?"

"I'm a fair Master. They can stay and be staked by me or one of your little trainees, or they could try their luck elsewhere. 'course I didn't tell them all the nearby elsewheres had their own bloodthirsty little girls patrolin' there."

"So you didn't..."

"Admit I was trying to get your attention, sweetheart, but I know better than to do it by shaggin' somebody else."

She stared into his eyes for a moment, breaking into a smile when she read the truth there. "Okay, then." Buffy turned to look at Riley. "So, you knew Spike was alive? And where he was? And you didn't tell me about it?" Her tone was calm and almost disinterested-sounding as she cocked her head at Riley and waited for his answer.

"I... well... no, not at first. But I'm telling you now."

"_Now_ I don't need to be told. He's here. I can see him for myself. I can feel that he's real and not a dream I'm having—" Spike's gasp brought her attention back to him long enough to smile and cup his face with her hand. "I missed you, Spike. I got used to the idea that you were gone, but I never stopped missing you."

The expression on his face and the look in his eyes as he held her hand pressed against his cheek made her blush before she wrenched her eyes away to say to Riley, "I think you should go now, Riley. I'm not going to Spain with you, and I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be available for dating when you get back. It's been nice catching up, but I'm off the market now."

There was a tense moment when Riley looked like he was planning to do something about his competition, and Buffy and Spike, without even exchanging a look, tensed up and stepped into defensive positions – Spike on Buffy's left. He glared at them for a second, then relaxed and shrugged.

"I never have been able to compete with your undead lovers. Not even going to try. Have a nice life, Buffy. Maybe when you're old and he's left you for some younger slayer, I'll come around and see if you've decided to stay with your own kind."

"Don't let the door hit you in the arse."

Buffy shook her head and glared at Spike.

"I'm sorry, Riley. Really I am. But it wasn't going to work out this time any better than it did before. You just don't understand me."

"And Spike does?"

"Yes. He does. Always has. Good bye, Riley." Buffy walked to the door and waited as he walked out. Shutting and locking it, she took a deep breath, then turned back to face Spike. He was looking at her with one eyebrow raised.

"Are we done with jealous not-boyfriends and talkin'? Because I don't want to do anything right now but start undressing you."

"Oh..." She walked toward him, basking in the look on his face. "I think I'd like that..."

The End (?)


End file.
